


The Ghost of You

by ThePeetaBread



Category: Coronation Street
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-12 01:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13536984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeetaBread/pseuds/ThePeetaBread
Summary: Five months ago, Kate made a promise to herself she'd spare her heart and move on. Her past was only heartache, pain, and stolen moments with someone else's wife. She had someone of her own now. Someone who was sweet and loving and honest. Someone who didn’t flinch when Kate tried to hold her hand in public, or look over her shoulder every-time they kissed. Someone who didn’t pick someone else over her. She had Sophie.So why wasn't it enough?





	1. Chapter 1

It had been six years since she last stood here.

Six years and not a thing had changed. The cobbled pathways between houses, the worn down walls of the Rovers. Even Dev’s corner shop looked as if it not aged a day since she last left. 

The street hadn’t changed a bit. But she had. 

She remembered her leaving, clear in her mind as though it were yesterday. Streetlights dimmed, hardly a car on the cobbles and her wedding dress, stained with her own tears as her mother drove her away leaving Weatherfield for what she hoped would be forever. No such luck, apparently. 

Sian left the bus stop, her luggage rattling against the cobbles as she crossed the street, thankful for the cover of nightfall. Her father’s house was only a few streets away, not far enough to warrant a taxi so Sian walked with her head down, pretending as if her mere presence in this street didn’t balloon her heart into twice its size.

Six years wasn’t nearly enough time to forget. 

 

* * *

The real reason she was here wasn’t to torture herself with memories of the past but to visit her father, the same father who’d disowned her all those years ago. 

He was sick, the kind of sick that didn’t go away on its own and there was no one left but her. 

He didn’t greet her like a father should, didn’t kiss her or hug her or so much as look pleased to see her. He grunted from his hospital bed, looking upon her as if he were disappointed she wasn’t the food trolley. He was greyer than before, with deep purple bags hanging under his eyes. When she asked if he was alright, he gave her only a deeply dismayed sigh, as if she were stupid for even asking. But when he looked away there was pain in his eyes, as if his light was burning at the very fuse, almost gone forever. 

Sian felt out of place being here with him, as if he belonged to some past life of hers she’d long forgotten. She felt sixteen again, roaming the streets she once lived, avoiding faces she once knew. The heart she stitched back together with the fabric of time was bursting at its seams. 

But she couldn’t leave. She knew it would haunt her forever if she weren’t here. 

He was her father, and Sian wouldn't leave him on his own.

 

* * *

Sophie looked beautiful tonight, Kate thought.

It was something about the way she smiled, almost bashful as she greeted Kate with a kiss, hands tangling together as they walked. Sophie had been hers for five months now, but tonight, for the first night, she was Kate’s forever. She wore the answer to Kate’s question on a chain, their future on her neck. A promise whispered over a candlelit dinner the night before. Their secret.

For now. 

“Hi,” She said against Sophie’s lips, as giddy as a schoolgirl with a crush. She’d been on cloud nine all day, packing boxes of knickers with a smile so wide Carla had come and asked if she was feeling alright. 

“Hi, yourself.” Sophie said with a laugh, taking Kate’s hand in her own. 

“You’ve spoken to your dad?” Kate asked eagerly, wasting no time on small talk. Sophie laughed again, stilling Kate with a gentle kiss to the cheek. 

“He’s back next week. I’ve told him I’ve got news for him.”

A pang of disappointment rushed through her; when Sophie had asked to keep their engagement quiet until Kevin had returned from his camping trip with Jack, Kate had been too happy to do anything but agree. But an entire week - Kate’s smile dropped at the prospect. Before she could say anything, Sophie was leaning over her to ring the doorbell. 

The door was swinging open after less than a second, and they were greeted with the sight of Sally Webster dressed in her Sunday best with a smile so wide it was frightening. 

“Good evening—“ Sally’s face dropped at the sight of them, “Oh, it’s only you two.” 

“Charming.” Sophie sounded from beside her. 

“Well you’re late, the pair of you.” Sally ushered them in, looking exasperated at the sight of Kate’s outfit. “And I thought I told you  _ no jeans _ .” 

“Oh leave her alone mum, we’re meeting Rosie’s boyfriend, not the Queen of England.” 

“It never hurts to make a good impression Sophie,” Sally chided as she saw them through to the living room, “He’s a lawyer, he’s used to people dressing well.”

“Well I can take ‘em off if you like Sal,” Kate said with a grin as she dropped next to Sophie on the sofa, “I’d make an impression alright.” 

Heavy footsteps down the stairs saved her from the rant Sally looked about to serve her. At the sight of Tim, Kate held back a laugh. He was dressed as if he might be at a wedding rather than a Webster family dinner, slacks tight around his waist, white shirt pressed finely to his black jacket. His face fell as he took sight of Kate and Sophie. 

“You said everyone was going to be formal” He said accusingly, turning to Sally, “These two look like they’ve just come in from the pub. I’m going to look like a right idiot.”

“Don’t be daft Tim, you look very handsome.” Sally assured, smoothing a hand over the crease in his jacket. 

Sophie turned next to her, letting out a snort at the sight of him, “Mum, you’ve got him in a tie--”

Kate whacked her knee but the damage was done, Tim’s expression changed swiftly as he pulled his jacket off. 

“Right, I’m changing,” 

“Tim!” Sally called out as Tim marched back up the stairs. 

“Oh, look what you’ve done now!” Sally said as she turned back to them, “I’ll tell you what, if I ever do host the Queen I know who I’m not inviting.”

“Shouldn’t you get that?” Sophie asked as the doorbell rang, and Sally’s veneer of annoyance disappeared, brightening as she rushed to greet Rosie. As she left, Kate landed another light whack to Sophie’s arm. 

“You didn’t tell me it was supposed to be formal.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, “I thought I’d spare you the ball gown babe, we’re eating Shepherd's Pie in my mum’s house.”

Kate hummed, dropping her head to Sophie’s shoulder. She pressed her fingers to the chain around Sophie’s neck, fingers catching the ring at the end of it. From the foyer, she could hear Sally’s exaggerated introductions, “Soph,” She said hesitantly, “What if we just tell them now and swear them to secrecy?”

Her fingers resting gently against Sophie’s chest, Kate felt her heart skip a beat. 

“What tonight?” Sophie asked, “And show up Rosie? We wouldn’t wouldn’t make it to the reception. Besides, you know what my mum’s like. All of Weatherfield will know before my dad can even pack up his tent.”

She had a point, Kate hated to admit it. She bit her lip, tugging the chain out of Sophie’s shirt again, fingers catching the stone of the ring. It was a simple design, modest stone in a silver band. It would look better on Sophie’s finger than hidden away on a chain around her neck. 

“I just want everyone to know already.” Kate said, “Don’t you?” 

Sophie’s lips were dry and she didn’t meet Kate’s eyes as she responded, “Course, babe.” She said, “I just want it to be in the right moment, is all.”

Kate bit at her bottom lip, dropping Sophie’s chain back into her shirt. “Right,” She said quietly, but before she could think on it further Sally was ushering Rosie and her boyfriend through to the sitting room. 

“This is Rosie’s sister Sophie,” Sally announced, step-ford wife smile plastered back on her face, “And this is her girlfriend, Kate. Sophie, Kate, this is Brian.” 

Kate swiveled around to greet them; Brian was a good looking guy with short brown hair and a smile that took up half his face. 

“Nice to meet you,” Kate offered, quirking her lips as she took notice of his attire.

“They’re nice, them jeans, aren’t they Sal?”

Sally shot her a withering look but Brian seemed not to notice, instead greeting a newly changed Tim with a firm handshake. 

“Brian drove us here in his Ferrari.” Was the first thing Rosie said and Kate didn’t have to look at Sophie to know she was rolling her eyes. 

“Oh, that’s very fancy.” Sally said, sounding delighted. Kate tried not to laugh at the look on Brian’s face. The Webster’s were a lot to take it, especially when they were all at once. She almost felt sorry for him. 

“Fancy a beer, mate?” Tim asked to Sally’s chagrin.

“He doesn’t want a beer, Tim,” Sally said, sounding embarrassed, “There’s some lovely Pinot Gris in the fridge-”

“I’ll have a beer, cheers Tim.” Kate said.

“Yeah me and all.” Sophie piped up. 

“Actually, a beer would be lovely.” Brian said to Sally, sounding apologetic. 

“Right, no worries then.” Tim said with a clap of his hands, though the look on Sally’s face said otherwise. 

“Well, why don’t you come on through,” Sally said, fussing with their coats, “Sophie, Kate, come sit at the table.” 

“She’s got the fancy plates out and all.” Sophie muttered under her breath, pulling Kate up with her. Kate couldn’t help but laugh; the last time Sally’s fancy plates had made an appearance it had been her father and brother sitting opposite the Webster’s, looking out of place and slightly bewildered as Sally demonstrated her hosting skills. 

Still, neurotic as she was, Sally was to be her family now. That was, if Sophie would ever announce their engagement. 

As if a hand were closing around her throat, Kate felt the familiar feeling that crept up when she felt unsure like this. Paranoia, insecurity, doubt. Fear that Sophie would wake in the morning and tell her she didn’t love her, or she was seeing somebody else. Fear Sophie didn’t want to tell Sally they were engaged because she wasn’t sure herself. 

Fear of being second best. Again. 

Kate swallowed hard, chasing away the thoughts. It was pathetic,  _ they _ were pathetic. They hadn’t existed, not before  _ her _ . 

Rana.

Little but a ghost of a memory now, she still haunted her waking moments. That was all  _ she _ was to Kate now; an unwelcome thought, a regret, or a distant memory. Kate’s anger with her hadn’t dissipated through time, but amalgamated, until memories were blurred and intentions had shifted. Had Rana truly loved her? Or had she used her like a cat chased a ball of string until it got bored. She once thought she’d felt love in Rana’s kisses, but she must have imagined it. Felt what she’d wanted to feel, seen what she’d hoped she was seeing. 

Rana didn’t love her, she never had.   


It didn’t matter, not anymore. It had been almost six months; Rana wasn’t living in the past, so why should she? Her past was only heartache, pain, and stolen moments with someone else’s wife. 

Kate pressed her fingers to Sophie’s cheek as they sat at the table, grounding herself to the present. 

She had someone of her own now. Someone who was sweet and loving and honest. Someone who didn’t flinch when Kate tried to hold her hand in public, or look over her shoulder everytime they kissed. Someone who didn’t pick someone else over her. 

Sophie was the one. 

Kate’s lips were dry, and her heart didn’t skip a beat at the thought. 

_ Sophie _ was the one.

If she said it again, once more, maybe she’d finally start to believe it. 

 

* * *

Rana lived her days without want. 

She woke, she worked, she went home to Zeedan. He cooked, she washed up. They watched TV, talked about their days. They went to bed, and it began again. 

It was boring, Alya told them,  _ they _ were boring, so settled into married life they forgot to live outside of it. But Rana didn’t feel bored. She didn’t feel much of anything these days. She was numb, going through the motions of each day without consequence.

Tonight was different though, tonight she felt like something different. Tonight she didn’t feel like sharing ice cream out of the carton with Zeedan, sat in front of the telly like they always did. Tonight she’d let loose, have a drink or three. Pretend the dull ache in the pit of her stomach wasn’t because she’d just seen Sophie and Kate in the street, looking at one another as only lovers did.   


It nauseated Rana to think about so she stopped, instead pressed her glass to her lips and downed her wine as if it were water. 

She was on her third already, her head starting to spin with the thrum of alcohol. Zeedan didn’t say a thing; this was normal now. It had been for a long while. He was smiling, laughing with Alya and Yasmeen over his beer. He knew how this went; Rana would have another, and then one more, until the world was so blurred she could pretend Zeedan’s face belonged to another. It was so easy to want him when she could pretend he was Kate, too drunk to know his hands were too big and his face too rough. 

She’d take him with the lights out, a hand over his mouth so his words couldn’t ruin her illusion. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t remember enough of it to feel guilty in the morning. 

Guilt or not she never stopped, she didn’t quite know if she could. 

Kate was the current, strong and unforgiving, sweeping her in its path. Zeedan, her anchor, had her chained at the ankle. Without him keeping her afloat, Rana would drown. 

But tonight, as the wine took over, she closed her eyes and remembered the feel of Kate’s lips against her neck, and let the current sweep her away. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

By her third day in Weatherfield, Sian had her routine down-pat. 

She slept in her old bedroom at her father’s house, the walls barren and empty, her old things packed up in rotting boxes. It was as if her father in his anger had tried to get rid of all presence of her but couldn’t be bothered to finish the job; posters half torn from the walls, old clothes packed up but never thrown away. It was a fitting allegory for their relationship, Sian thought bitterly. 

She spent her mornings at the hospital, stayed with her father for the morning rounds of doctors that shoved tubes down his throat and read his charts as if they were obituaries. Her father slept, Sian waited. She fetched coffee, bought sandwiches she didn’t eat. Mostly, she sat next to him feeling useless.

She was on her third coffee run of the morning, hands jittery and cold, desperately seeking her next hit of caffeine when she heard her name called across the room. As if ice water had just been poured down her neck, Sian stiffened, stomach filling with dread. 

“Sian! Sian Powers?”

Sian turned around slowly. It wasn’t Sophie at the very least. Nor was it Kevin or Rosie or Sally; if Sian still believed in God, she would think he had granted her that small mercy. Instead, it was Michelle Connor, mother of her first and only boyfriend, waving her down as if she were the last cab on a rainy winter evening. Sian felt her throat tighten, her palms starting to sweat. The walls of the hospital suddenly felt as if they were closing in. Michelle moved in fast, smiling at Sian as if she were greeting an old friend.   


“Michelle.” She greeted weakly and before she could say anything further, Michelle was pulling her in for a hug. 

“What are you doing back here?” Michelle asked, before her face turned stern, “You’re not ill are you?”

“No, it’s my dad,” Sian said, “He’s not well.” 

“Oh, darlin’ I’m sorry to hear that.” Michelle said, rubbing her shoulder in comfort, “Nothing serious, I hope?”

Sian thought of her father, tangled in tubes, wasting away in his hospital bed. 

“No, it’s nothing serious.” She lied, quick to turn the conversation from herself, “What are you doing here?”

“Just a check up,” Michelle waved off, smile brightening, “How long have you been back?”

“Just a couple of days.” 

“So you haven’t caught up with anyone yet?”

The question sounded loaded, as if Michelle’s friendliness had surmounted into an eager curiosity, ripe for gossip. Sian’s face must have given away her thoughts because Michelle backtracked immediately. 

“Oh sweetheart I didn’t mean it like that-” 

“It’s fine really,” Sian said with a small smile, “I haven’t seen her. Or anyone, actually.”

Michelle studied her quietly, as if a grand thought had just occurred to her. 

“Right, I don’t know about you but I’ve had about enough of this dreary place. How about we head down to the Rovers. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Sian said, “My dad he -”

“Won’t miss you for a couple of hours,” Michelle insisted, “It’ll do you some good to get out of here for a bit.” 

At Sian’s reluctance she softened. 

“Sophie won’t be there,” Michelle said, nudging her shoulder, “She’ll be working today.” 

Sian wondered how she was so painfully transparent for Michelle to read her so effortlessly. She grimaced, knowing her alternative was sitting back down into the cloth-covered seats of the waiting room and staring at the ceiling until her father woke. 

“Go on then,” Sian said, and Michelle beamed.  

 

* * *

“He’s a lawyer. Very handsome - a proper gentleman he is. Treats our Rosie like a princess.” 

Kate sat wedged between Sally and Beth, and wondered for not the first time today why she’d agreed to have a midday drink with the factory girls. 

“How much money does he make?” Beth asked rather loudly. 

“Well I don’t know Beth, I haven’t asked,” Sally said, a little miffed before leaning in, “Although he did show up last night in one of them Ferrari’s.” 

“I don’t think I’d like to date a lawyer,” Sinead piped up, “They make all that money but they’re never around to spend it.”

“Well Brian makes time for Rosie,” Sally said very seriously and Kate rolled her eyes, downing the last of her wine, “Between you and me I think they might get married.”

“Does Rosie want to marry him or do you, Sal?” Kate asked, and Alya sniggered opposite her. Sally looked unimpressed. 

She spotted Michelle at the door as she walked in and dropped her empty glass to the table, happy for the excuse to leave. 

“Right, excuse me for a sec,” She said, nudging her way out of the booth. Sally, bless her heart, was only manageable in small doses, and Kate had seen about enough of her to last the next twenty-four hours. 

“Hiya,” She greeted Michelle, “Thank god you’re here, if I have to hear one more word about Rosie’s new boyfriend--” She trailed off, realising Michelle wasn’t alone. 

“Kate-” Michelle said, as if Kate had caught her completely off guard, “This is Sian. Sian, this is my cousin Kate.” 

Kate knew who she was. Sally had a picture of her hung in her sitting room, smiling pretty with Sophie on her arm. It was the picture Sophie couldn’t stand to look at, despite how she pretended otherwise. Sian was Sophie’s ex-girlfriend. Her almost wife. 

“Hi,” Sian greeted, smile friendly, not a clue who Kate was. She looked older than the pictures, her hair a little darker, the shine in her eyes a little dimmer. She was pretty, Kate thought, it was easy to see why Sophie had loved her. Her lips red, smile easy, she greeted Kate with an open palm. Kate, frozen by a sudden rush of undeniable jealousy, didn’t take her hand. 

“Nice to meet you.” Kate said, her voice flat. 

Sian’s smile dropped a little, pulling back her hand with the slightest crease of a frown. Michelle stared at her, and struggled to coast over Kate’s apparent rudeness by filling in the sudden awkward silence.

“Sian used to date our Ryan.” 

“Er- for a minute yeah,” Sian said with a laugh and Michelle squeezed her arm, tugging her forward to the bar, “I promised Sian I’d buy her a drink, Kate. Care to join us?”

Kate suddenly didn’t feel much like a drink, and shook her head violently.

“I’m actually already having one with the factory girls.”

She gestured over to the booth where the factory girls were sitting, not realising her mistake. 

Michelle’s face visibly dropped. Before Michelle could stop her, Sian’s gaze was fixed directly on the back of Sally Webster’s head.   


“Oh, I’m sorry, love, I didn’t know she’d be here.” 

Michelle gave Kate a look, as if it was her fault Sally Webster was sitting only meters away from them bragging about her supposed future son-in-law. 

“We can go if you like.” 

“It’s alright,” Sian says after a long moment, “No use in trying to avoid them forever, I suppose.”

It was fortunate Sian had decided not to avoid her, Kate thought, because as if a flame to a wick, Sally turned, gaze locking straight onto Sian. It was almost funny, the way Sally’s expressions cycled through like a mime at his curtain call, from shock to worry and then a cautious sort of false exuberance in the span of five seconds. As the table laughed without her, Sally stood, blinking as if she were seeing things, before slowly making her way towards them. 

“Sian?”

“Hiya Sally.” 

There was an awkward moment between them, as if they weren’t quite sure how to greet one another before Sally reached over for a hug. Michelle and Kate watched on like awkward bystanders. 

“How are you?” Sally asked after a moment. 

“I’m alright. How are you?”

“Good, good. You’re back I see-”

“Yeah - I- my dad’s not well so I-”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Yeah.” 

The tension between them palpable, Kate wished she’d stayed back at the booth. Beside her, not even Michelle, who’d never witnessed an awkward moment she couldn’t salvage could think of a thing to say. 

“I see you’ve met Sophie’s girlfriend, Kate.”

Sally Webster, Kate thought disbelievingly, could be counted on nothing except putting her foot in her mouth. Michelle let out what sounded halfway between a groan and a sigh next to her, Kate resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. 

Sian’s face flashed with surprise, as if Sally had just tipped her drink straight over Sian's head.

“Um, yeah.” Sian said, smile gone, “Just now.” 

“Right, well, why don’t you come have a drink with us? I’m sure we’ve all got lots to catch up on.”

Sian looked as if she’d rather the floor swallowed her whole; Michelle was the first to see it, interjecting before Sally could answer. 

“Oh, I was hoping to have her all to myself for the minute Sal.” Michelle said, voice hurried. 

“Oh, right,” Sally said, sounding as relieved as Sian looked, “Of course. Some other time then.” 

Sally lingered for another awkward moment, looking from Sian to Kate to Michelle, as if contemplating saying something further. She refrained, it seemed, instead pursing her lips with  a tight smile. 

“Nice to see you, Sian.” 

“You too, Sal.”

Michelle squeezed Sian’s arm, “Why don’t you go get us a booth love, I’ll bring the drinks over.”

Sian nodded, gaze flickering to Kate a final time before she turned, heading over to a booth as far away from Sally as she could find. The moment she was out of earshot, Michelle rounded on Kate. 

“Right, what’s your problem?” She asked, face stern as Kate sulked into her wine glass. 

“ _ My _ problem? What’s your problem?” Kate hissed, “What are you doing bringing Sophie’s ex round here?” 

Michelle stared at her, taken aback. 

“I’ll bring who I like around here, thank you very much.”   


“If Sophie was here you could have really upset her.” Kate said, arms crossed. 

“Oh Kate, she’s a grown woman not some little lamb you need to shelter from the world.” Michelle said dismissively, reaching over Kate to grab two filled glasses of wine, “Besides, Sian’s going to be back for a while. They’re bound to run into each other at some point.” 

“Well, yeah, if you keep bringing her round here they will.” Kate snapped, “What are you even doing with her? Whose side are you on anyway?” 

“Oh, Kate don’t be so ridiculous-”

Kate slammed her drink down on the counter, grabbing her jacket from the chair. 

“Yeah, cheers Chelle. Thanks for having my back.” And she stormed off in a huff, leaving a speechless Michelle staring after her. 

Before she could as much as reach for the door, it was swinging wide open, catching her off guard as she flinched backwards. She knew who it was before she saw her face; heavy wafts of Chanel perfume hit her, smothering her as her throat closed up. Two eyes, dark, sultry, unknowing, locked onto hers as she came to a stop. Rana. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, frozen to a stop, as if they’d both come up against towering brick walls. Rana looked vulnerable for a single, solitary moment, eyes on Kate as if she were the only thing that existed in the world. And then, as if her mind had caught up to her body, Rana was suddenly looking through her, as if Kate didn’t exist at all. Her eyes dropped, and she sidestepped Kate as if Kate was the host of some deadly disease she could catch from just being close to her. 

Kate felt a familiar painful twist in her chest, as if Rana had plunged a knife straight through her. Rana said nothing, just moved past Kate as if they had never been anything but distant strangers, calling out to Alya with a smile on her face. Kate stared ahead, blood rushing to her head as her eyes pricked with tears. She clenched her jaw so tightly her teeth hurt, and blinked them away. 

The cloud of Rana’s perfume stifled her, her eyes misty and her head fogged. Kate swallowed the dull ache in the back of her throat and pressed the door open, the haze of chanel perfume dissipating with the cool air of the Weatherfield afternoon. She closed her eyes, sucking in heavy breaths of air, back pressed tightly against the brick wall of the Rovers Return. 

Memories of Rana, memories she thought she had repressed, sprung back to her as if they’d happened yesterday. Rana’s lips, warm and wet against her neck, her hands, desperate and wanting, tangled in Kate’s hair. 

The look in Rana’s eyes, cold, distant, when she’d told Kate she didn’t want her anymore. 

Kate curled in fingers into a fist, trying to steady her breathing as she wrenched herself from her own memory, eyes clamped shut. 

_ Sophie, Sophie, think of Sophie _ , she told herself desperately, clenching down on her fingers until her knuckles were white. 

Sophie. Sophie’s eyes - kind and blue - Sophie’s touch - gentle and loving - Sophie’s lips - sweet, like raspberries. 

Sophie’s neck, with Kate’s ring sitting pretty around it. 

Kate’s heartbeat stilled, the ache in her chest lessening with the butterflies in her stomach. She pulled out her phone, suddenly desperately needing Sophie close, and called her number. 

And all thought of Rana was gone. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful comments thus far! For those asking I am planning on updating twice a week from this point on and please hold me to it! Hope you all enjoy :)

It was unavoidable, Sian knew.

Sophie was unavoidable.

She’d spent the night tossing and turning, replaying the memory of seeing Sally in the Rovers over and over in her head. She hadn’t been pleased, Sian thought, her voice high and all too polite to be anything but false. It was a lot to take in, Sian knew, her daughter’s ex of eight years popping into her local pub as if a day hadn’t gone by. She shouldn’t have gone. Michelle shouldn’t have asked her to go. 

She had hoped to keep her head down, slip in and out of Weatherfield as if she’d never been there in the first place. A pipe dream now that Sally Webster had seen her. And Michelle - as sweet as she had been - she had a penchant for gossip, no doubt her sour-faced cousin the same. 

She would be talk of the town - the girl who had driven away in her tear soaked wedding dress after being jilted at the altar. Her cheeks flamed from the gossip probably being touted about her. And once that gossip got back to Sophie - well - Sophie had never been one to let something be. 

It had been easy to avoid Sophie after she’d left; she’d blocked her number, blocked her social media, deleted voicemails and texts without reading them. Avoiding Sophie when they could be face to face was harder. Sophie would want to talk, to apologise, perhaps even to be friends again. 

Sian didn’t want anything from Sophie other than to leave her in the past. 

If Sophie knew what was good for her, she’d want the same. 

 

* * *

 

“What’s wrong?”

Sophie looked up from her sandwich, pulled out of her reverie. Tim was staring at her, eyebrows raised expectantly, fork raised halfway to his mouth. 

“Wrong? Nothin’. Why?”

They were on a lunch break, trying out the new cafe that had just opened on the street. Tim looked out of place in his overalls, and surely she did too, her hair in a messy bun, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and Kate’s old hoodie. 

“You’re quiet,” Tim accused, pointing a finger for good measure, “Too quiet. Go on, what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

It wasn’t anything, not really. Just something Kate had said the night before, right before they’d gone to bed. She’d pulled Sophie close and kissed her harder than usual, possessive, as if she was marking her territory. She’d touched her fingers to the ring Sophie wore around her neck, pressing hard enough Sophie felt the indentation against her chest and said, “Night, Mrs Connor.” 

And then she’d fallen asleep effortlessly against Sophie’s side, as if she hadn’t just sent Sophie spiraling into a panic induced existential crisis.  _ Mrs Connor _ . The chain on her neck had closed around her, choking her until she had to pry it off, shoving it in a drawer with her palms sweaty and her heart racing. 

She was going to be married, it dawned on her all at once, she was going to be someone’s _ wife _ . There would be a wedding, a  _ big wedding _ if her mother had anything to do with it. She’d wear a white dress, look Kate in the eye and promise to love her forever. Do what she couldn’t the last time. 

The thought of stepping foot inside a church in a wedding dress again made her so nauseous she thought she might be sick, and so she’d left Kate to snore alone in the bed, and sunk down against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. 

And now, midway through the day without so much of a wink of sleep, Sophie felt nauseous again. 

“Did you and Kate have a fight?” Tim prompted, and Sophie sighed, dropping her sandwich to her plate. 

“No, Tim, I just don’t feel good today is all.” 

It didn’t help that they were here, eating at the Nazir’s cafe. Sophie had once been close with the Nazir family but all that had changed after Luke’s death. Now, she saw Alya in the streets a few times a week, both promising plans of a catch up which would never come to fruition. Zeedan was nice enough, greeting her when they crossed paths, but Rana - Sophie didn’t know if she was imagining it, but it seemed as though Rana didn’t like her very much. 

“Done with this?” Rana appeared as if Sophie’s thought had summoned her, grabbing quite rudely at Sophie’s unfinished plate. Sophie didn’t argue, but let Rana take off with her food and folded her hands in her lap. 

“Is it just me or does she have a problem?” Sophie asked Tim, who had taken back to his food, handful of chips in his palm. 

“She seems alright to me.”

“I just- get a weird vibe with her sometimes,” Sophie lowered her voice, “And I keep catching her staring at me.”

“Maybe she fancies you-” Tim shrugged, and Sophie rolled her eyes, turning back to where Rana was busying herself behind the counter.

“Is that what’s botherin’ you?”

“No Tim, I told ya, nothing’s bothering me.” Sophie pressed her fingers to the ring around her neck unconsciously, “Are you done with that, we’ve got to get back to work.”

Tim grumbled, shovelling the remainder of his fish into his mouth as if it were his last meal. 

“You know, just when I start to think you’re nothing like your mother you go and remind me of her.” 

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.” Sophie said, pulling her jacket over her shoulders, “For your sake.” 

“And, that Soph,” Tim said, voice muffled as he chewed, “Is why I love ya.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sophie shooed him on as they cleared the table, glancing over her shoulder a final time. When she looked back, Rana met her gaze, eyes stormed over in a glare. 

 

* * *

 

The best way to break bad news to someone, Kate had learned from her older brother, was to pretend as if it wasn’t bad news at all. 

Reactions were reflective, Aidan had explained to her in all his thirteen year old wisdom. You could do anything, break a window, dump your girlfriend - as long as you acted like it wasn’t a big deal, the reaction would be the same. 

Come to think of it, Kate realised as Sophie stared back at her with wide eyes, she’d never actually seen it work for Aidan either.

“Sian? Sian Powers? You saw Sian in the Rovers?”

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea - Kate thought suddenly. She had all but raced back to tell Sophie before Sally had the chance, hoping she could somehow soften the blow. Now, with Sophie staring at her, half peeled potato in one hand, a white-knuckled grip on the kitchen counter with the other, Kate wished she hadn't. 

“Yeah,” Kate said, suddenly hesitant. She shifted uncomfortably from her spot on the sofa, standing to reach for Sophie, “She was with Michelle. They met up at the hospital.” 

Kate ran her fingers over the backs of Sophie’s knuckles, reaching to grip her fingers reassuringly. Sophie’s face creased in confusion. 

“Well, what’s she doing here?”

“Her dad's sick.” 

Sophie blinked, “I didn’t know she still talked to her dad.”

“Yeah, well, Soph, why would you? It’s been years.” Kate snapped, and Sophie recoiled. Kate sighed, lifting a hand to her forehead. 

“Sorry-” She sighed, “Ignore me. It’s been a long day.”

Sophie had gone quiet, and so Kate ran a hand up her arm. She only knew the brief details of Sophie and Sian’s breakup; they’d been too young, Sophie had told her. Sophie had kissed somebody else and then proposed, then had choked on her vows at the altar. It sounded humiliating, even second-hand, and not just for Sian. 

“You won’t even have to see her.” Kate said reassuringly, brushing a loose strand of hair out of Sophie’s eyes, “It’s her dad she’s here for. She’ll be gone as soon as he’s better.”

Sophie chewed at her bottom lip, clearly losing Kate’s words to her own thoughts. 

“What if I want to see her?”

Kate recoiled, dropping her hand from Sophie’s cheek, “You what?”

“I think I owe her an explanation. An apology, at the very least.” Sophie looked at her earnestly, as if waiting for Kate to voice her approval. 

Kate stared at her, “No, Sophie. You don’t owe her anything.” 

A familiar feeling coiled near the bottom of her stomach, red hot and twisting with jealousy. She curled her fingers into a fist, trying to calm it, but it burned hot with Sophie’s words. 

“I want to talk to her, Kate. I need to. All these years and we’ve never had proper closure.” 

Irritation flickered through her at the look of quiet determination in Sophie’s eyes. 

“And what makes you think she’s going to want to see you?” Kate asked, voice hard, “After what you did-” She stopped herself at the look of hurt that flickered through Sophie’s eyes. She was aware of how she sounded; angry, bitter, jealous. Exactly how she hadn’t wanted to come across. This Sian woman, it seemed, brought out the worst in her. She took a deep breath and ran an apologetic hand down Sophie’s back. 

“Soph, all I’m saying is, it might not be such a good idea. She might not be very happy to see you.”

“I’ve got to try, haven’t I?” Sophie pressed, “It might do us both some good.” 

“Sophie, if she wanted to talk to you, don’t you think she’d reach out herself?” 

Sophie’s lips curled into a grimace, looking at Kate as if she were trying to think of a possible reason why Sian hadn’t. Kate had her - she pressed in close to Sophie, grip on her as if she were a lion about to have her prey between her teeth. 

“Tell you what,” Kate said smoothly, both arms curling around Sophie’s waist, “Why don’t I speak with Michelle first. Ask her if Sian’s open to seeing you.”

“You’d do that?” Sophie asked, sounding vulnerable. 

No, she wouldn’t. 

If Rana had taught her anything it was a third party was always a threat, no matter how benign they seemed. Kate had to protect what was hers; she’d learned it the hard way. 

And what Sophie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Course, babe.” Kate assured pressing a kiss to her temple, “But don’t be upset if the answer’s no, yeah?"

Sophie chewed her bottom lip between her teeth, letting her shoulders fall in resignation. 

“Yeah,” She said, deflating, “You’re right, I can’t force her to see me if she doesn’t want to.” 

She looked put out, as if Kate had just dangled a winning lottery ticket in front of her and then torn it to pieces. 

It was for the best, Kate told herself, jaw tight. For her sake and for Sophie’s.


End file.
